Improbability Drives 2
by Ray103
Summary: 101 improbable situations in which Spock and Christine find themselves - # 2


Improbability Drives - # 2 - soup

"Its not funny Leonard!"

"I don't know what you are talking about Chris, just calm down a moment and explain"

"You don't know – that's just lame even for you"

"Chris you come barging in here, raging about who knows what, accusing me of …. Hell I don't even know what you are accusing me of"

Christine produced a bowl, previously held behind her back.

"You don't know about this?" she thrust it forward into his face, a small porcelain bowl with a delicate blue design etched around the rim. McCoy shrugged. "I haven't seen it before, but I think you are getting worse"

"What?" in her anger she had failed to take note of her current presentation. Dressed in an oversized dressing gown, two large fluffy character slippers adorning her feet, tissues falling from her sleeve. She had shuffled from her cabin with little thought to the looks or comments she would garner.

"Just take the vaccine, it will sort this out"

"If I take the vaccine we wont be able to work out how I caught a cold in the first place!"

Christine slumped into a nearby chair, wiping her forehead, small beads of perspiration gathering across her brow. "Wow is it hot in here?"

"You have a fever, if you aren't going to take the meds go back to bed"

"Fine, I'll go back, but don't do this again"

"Sure, I won't do whatever I didn't do before" Christine snapped him a look, but chose to leave further arguments until feeling better. Easing back onto her feet, she moved towards the door, suddenly gripped by a particularly violent sneeze.

"Oh disgusting", she moaned, wiping her nose as fluids dripped.

"A biological reaction to a suppressed immune system I believe"

Her puffy red-rimmed eyes moved up the length of the tall lean blue clad pillar of masculinity. The immaculate shirt now sprayed with the contents of her nasal passage.

"Oh great". She grumbled a half-hearted apology, making her way passed the first officer.

"Nurse Chapel appears no better"

"Mule headed..stubborn…" his voice trailed off as he leaned forward to collect the bowl she had left.

"Doctor?"

"I could have the cold fixed up in a few hours, but no that fact she has a cold, she believes, shows that the current vaccine doesn't work, she thinks there's been a mutation in the virus…'Leonard just keep a record of my condition' ' Leonard a few days of inconvenience to find out a cure' 'Leonard….."

"Doctor, you are talking to yourself"

"Of course I'm talking to myself, only way things make sense"

By now Spock was well used to the irrational rants of the Doctor, over the years he had developed a particular method of managing the illogical nature of the loudly spoken monologues – he ignored them. His attention focussed upon the bowl on McCoy's desk.

"Nurse Chapel did not appreciate the soup?"

"Nurse Chapel did not…..Spock what have you done?"

"I was aware that Nurse Chapel was unwell, and on reading earth custom, as well as information gained from communication with my Mother, it was suggested that a hot broth assists in aiding recovery"

"You contacted your _Mother_!, doesn't matter – she is blaming me for this, you need to go sort this out"

"What is required to sort out?"

McCoy took a deep breath.

"The last time soup was made on this ship for one of the crew, it was thrown across the hall, from memory Spock, thrown by you"

A quick rush of pale green invaded Spock's face

"I may have acted without appropriate forethought"

"Brain the size of a planet and cant work out that one and one is two"

"Doctor I would advise that one two accounts you are mistaken"

"Spock go apologize, try to be humble and make it clear I had nothing to do with it"

Spock turned and left, a quizzical expression adorning his face. McCoy sat back, a slight smile quirked from the corner of his mouth.

00oo00

Spock estimated the time he had been left standing outside of Christine Chapel's quarters as approximately three point forty seven minutes. Obviously he was not frustrated, however as the second in command responsible for the safety of the crew a response time over two minutes, minimum, he considered a concern. Overriding lock command on her door he entered.

The room was dark, swirling with an intense smell of burning homeopathic oils. The temperature was raised to a comfortable level, for a Vulcan, he surmised to most humans it would be disagreeable.

"Nurse Chapel, you didn't respond"

A groan, though no recognition. Investigating further he moved deeper into her room.

"Nurse Chapel I believe there has been a mistake"

Another groan, deeper this time.

Committing to a decision he moved to the emanating noise, Christine laid across her bed, barely clothed. A sheen of satin like sweat glowed across her skin. Sheets from the bed were tossed to the side. The groaning was rumbling from deep within Christine's chest, which he noted, rose and dipped with a magnetic rhythm.

"Nurse Chapel?"

The groan morphed to a deep-throated snore, her arm raised in a completely unconscious move to wipe her nose then fall above her head. The stretch of her arm exposed the upper part of her breast.

With parallels to the Kobayashi Maru he was instantly caught in a no win situation, between walking from the room leaving the semi naked nurse exposed to potential chill or assisting with her bedding, subsequently bringing himself into ridiculously close contact with smooth temptation. A deep guttural snort, followed by phlegm filled coughing resolved the situation, temptation averted.

Lifting her splayed limbs back upon the bed, he pulled the sheets slowly up her body, her perfectly polished toes, gracefully carved ankles further up her well toned legs. He noted the slightest hush of caramel upon her calves melting into her thighs, a feint reminder of recent shore leave. A subtle line of milky paleness marked the start of swimwear she once wore.

He gently leant across to pull her nightgown down to cover the illogically small pyjama briefs.

"It is no wonder you caught a chill Miss Chapel"

His hand wavered momentarily over her apex of flesh; he could feel the heat emanating from just between her thighs.

"Assure yourself Miss Chapel…Christine I will be mediating after this"

Firmly grasping the sheet he pulled it further up her body, the tip off his small finger running along the length of her gently defined abdominal muscles, up between her slightly firm yet succulent breasts.

An uncontrollable splutter, combined with gush of bodily fluid hastened his actions. Stepping back from the bed, he quickly tucked the sheets around her.

"Sleep will remedy your condition Christine"

He went to walk away, caught by a memory he turned.

"Though Doctor McCoy is a caring physician it was I that supplied the soup to assist in your recovery, I was remiss in not predicting the possible confusion, and subsequent emotional distress" her now settled snores acknowledged his veiled apology, it would be enough for tonight.


End file.
